


Routine

by fireun



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 10:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireun/pseuds/fireun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has their own brand of morning routine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Routine

Aya made a silent promise never to be disgusted with Yohji’s sleeping habits ever again. It was different when there was more warmth in the blankets, a leg casually tossed over his hip, twined possessively between his own. It was harder to leave, with breath tickling slightly at the hairs on his neck, a hand splayed across his stomach. It encouraged lethargy, a decadently unconcerned bliss that defied all sense of time and responsibility.

Five minutes ago Aya should have struggled free from the grasp of tangled blankets and clinging telepath. Five minutes ago his last chance for coffee and kata before work had passed. In five more minutes he would have to go without a shower or risk running late for work.

Too finicky to be late and too fastidious to not bathe, Aya experimentally shifted, tried to wriggle his legs free.

Schuldich had leg strength that would have made Ken try to recruit a new stopper for the team he coached and Yohji invent fascinatingly impossible sexual positions on the spot. The telepath clamped down on Aya, smothering any further attempts at stealthy movement.

Two minutes and it would be a contest between being clean and being prompt.

Schuldich mouthed sleepily at the skin of Aya’s neck, sending goosebumps marching down his arms. Aya shivered a bit at a hint of tooth and squirmed in frustration in the face of temptation.

How easy it would be to give into the sleepy telepaths singular brand of charm…

He could almost hear Yohji’s smug ‘I told you so.’

One minute.

Schuldich uncurled with a throaty chuckle, stretched like an over-sized, overindulged feline, and before Aya could sort out what was going on, had snatched up his massive towel and made off for the shower.

Aya blinked, his brain trying to decide between affectionate exasperation and fury.

Schuldich started the shower.

Aya shook his head, a crooked smile on his face, and gathered up his own towel.

There was no way he was going to work without bathing. And that bastard knew it.


End file.
